


Erase Every Nasty Thought

by MapleTreeway



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Consort Kylo, Emperor Hux, M/M, kylo tries to be supportive and help, married kylux too, mentally ill hux, specifically hux has ocd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6450172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleTreeway/pseuds/MapleTreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hux, stop!" Ren ordered from the doorway, rooted to the spot. His brown eyes were wide even though he tried his best to conceal his panic. "Breathe for me, Hux. <em>Breathe for me.</em> Now put the knife down. Nothing is going to hurt you if you do. You're <em>safe."</em></p><p>Hux's hands shook, the knife positioned over his other finger. His index finger was severed, blood dripping from the accidental cut. Ones and threes and nines were bad. Ones and threes and nines gave him anxiety and wouldn't let him be and <em>stars</em> he couldn't deal with it if only one finger was mangled. He couldn't he couldn't he -</p><p>He hadn't meant for it to get so bad; to relapse back into cleaning his utensils for four hours again, and kissing Ren twelve times before he left again, and leaving the bedroom door open at a forty five degree angle again. All his old compulsions flooding back...that hadn't been his intent. <em>Never</em> his intent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erase Every Nasty Thought

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy oh boy here we go. i had to get this off my chest so...  
> this is in four parts btw

Some days were worse than others. That was a fact Hux had grown accustomed to since his teenage years, and he’d dealt with it in his own ways. It became his secret shame he never dared share with anyone - not even Ren. Mainly because it never interfered too heavily within his work. Unless everything was thrown out of control and the stress got too much _too_ quickly, the mental itch was only a whisper.

Then he became Emperor. 

His secret shame got a thousand times harder to conceal - it interfered with every possible thing.

Oh Hux could never really turn off the voice in his mind telling him that he was worthless. Or the figure pulling at him with claws that tore his mind apart and screamed at him every harmful thing he could possibly do. It pricked at his skin whenever he walked into a room he was _damn_ sure was contaminated with _something._ He himself didn’t know what, exactly, that something was, just that it was very real and there and -

_Something something. Something...just..._

Hux couldn’t permanently quiet it - the voice - even when he left the bedroom door open at a forty-five degree angle or kissed his husband Ren twelve times before he left. Not when he thoroughly cleaned every eating utensil and drinking cup he owned; going back to clean them again to make sure he _had_ cleaned them, even though his memory told him he had. And then again and again and again and again and -

_What if they were still contaminated? No. No that couldn’t be right. They had just been cleaned...just..._

One time, lying in bed next to his sleeping husband, he suddenly realized that he could very easily kill him. Put his hands around his neck and push and hold until Ren could no longer breathe. His neck turning purple and blue from the bruises while his eyes bulged. Mouth open in a silent gasp, arms flailing. Hux could kill Ren, if he wanted to.

The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through him, and he tried to focus on something else. Anything else. So with shame he turned away from Ren, opting to lay on his side and stare at the wall instead. What he needed was sleep. It was late at night after all, and he needed to be productive the next day. Being Emperor really was more stressful than being General. If someone had only tol -

_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_

Terrified, Hux turned back around and glanced at Ren, hoping to the stars he hadn’t killed him. When he saw that he hadn’t, he let out a shaky breath. Ren was alright. Ren was alive. He hadn’t done anything. _But that wasn’t good enough, no._

So it was with equally shaky legs that he got out of bed and walked over to his closet. He needed to get out of the room, needed some air, needed _something._ He didn’t want to kill Ren. Never wanted to kill Ren. And to do that he had to first get properly dressed.

But the wardrobe offered no relief, it only made things worse. Because Ren’s clothes lay in disarray on the floor, robes crumpled on top of pants. Messy and disorganized. It took Hux’s breath away in a sucker-punch-to-the-gut kind of way. Already he could feel himself start to shake from anxiety tremors. Why oh why couldn't his husband be fucking organized?!

Hux’s hands worked rapidly. He snatched the clothes up and folded them or hung them up. And he should’ve stopped there, he knew. It would only make it harder on himself if he stayed. He knew he knew he knew he -

But -

The whole closet...

_Messy and disorganized._

His chest felt constricted, so he took a few gulps of air. Then he took every single article of clothing, both his and Ren’s, off the hangers and out of the shelves. Darks went to one pile, whites to another, colors... _no._ That would make three piles and three piles wasn’t - he couldn’t - the number -

_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_

Green eyes frantically glanced towards the bed, where Ren was still sleeping. Alive. He hadn’t killed him.

Stop thinking stop thinking. Shut up shut up shut up _shut up._

Focus on the clothes. Divide them into four piles. One for darks, one for whites, one for vivid colors, and the other for patterned. Yes, okay, good. 

Hux took a breath in and tried to steady himself. Once the piles were done, he started to sectionalize them into shirts and pants. He worked quickly and efficiently and was done not a half hour later. His nerves steadied a bit, his chest loosened.

_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go -_

The world seemed to fall from under him, but he kept working on the clothes. Hung them up or folded them. Put them away in order of color and type. Systematic yet frantic. Chest constricting once more and the air suffocating him slightly. He needed control.

_Don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_

Was Ren alive? He had to be. He _had_ to be, Hux didn’t remember killing him.

Or had he? Maybe this was all a memory. Maybe it was hitting him now, coming to him in waves…

Ren’s blue face looked too real; too vivid for it to be a thought. Yet the snores from across the room were also just as real. It fucked with Hux’s mind so much so he felt everything start to blur.

_He **deserves **-****_

No no no no. Too sick. It was too sick, even for him. Hux was going to be sick, watching Ren dying before him. He couldn't do that to him - he couldn't he - not like - not - he couldn't - it wasn't - _NO._

_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_

Hux could barely register his trembling hands ripping at his night clothes and his tears spilling out his eyes. And when the cool air hit his naked form it didn't feel like anything. When he screamed it didn't sound like anything. It was as if he was disconnected and helpless and had no control. The pressure was overwhelming: the clothes, the job, the husband. Everything was too much. It was _too much._

_Too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much too much to -_

_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_  
_Hands around neck. Brown eyes losing light. Bruises, dark blue and purple forming. Don’t let go don’t let go. Keep on choking him. Choke him until he dies, he deserves this. He **deserves **-****_

\----

Hux blinked open his eyes, the ceiling staring down at him. It took him a moment to feel the warmth of the blanket on top of him. It took him longer, still, to properly register the far off sounds as people talking. He should hate it, he knew, he should hate the ditzyness of it all. But he didn’t feel much of anything. He just felt empty.

So he closed his eyes again in hopes to go back to whatever it was he had just woken up from.

“Hux. Hux, baby, are you here?” Ren’s muffled voice asked. A hand touched his face, caressed it gently. “Hux?”

Hux didn’t know why or how he opened his eyes, but he did. Ren was leaning over him, a frown scarring his already scarred face. _I’m fine,_ Hux wanted to say. _Stop worrying about me, idiot._ Yet he couldn’t form the words. Didn’t have the energy to.

And when Ren entered his mind a second later, he didn’t have the energy to push him out. It was taxing just to feel him there as it was.

He suddenly found he didn’t want him there. Didn’t want him to see him like this: pathetic and broken and helpless. And in return Hux didn’t want to see Ren’s pitying face. It looked ugly on him and it felt ugly to see. _Get out. Get out. Get out! GET OUT!_

The feel of the Force withdraw was a cold kiss. It left him yelling inside, breathless, red in the face. For all the wrong reasons, but still, the reaction was the same. Hux turned away to stare at the wall in humiliation and wanted nothing more than to die. In his mind’s eye he could see himself sitting alone in a white walled room. His knees were to his chest, his hands over his ears. And he was screaming with such force that his body shook. All he did was scream bloody murder until he lost his voice, and even then some. It was childish, really. And weak. And only added to his frustration.

Hux didn’t know how long he was lying there for. Sometime ago Ren had left him, and then sometime ago a doctor had been fetched. Hux kept replaying the white walled room as a distraction. He didn’t want to hear what the doctor had to say and he didn’t want to admit everything wasn’t fine. 

“Your Majesty,” the doctor had said, kneeling before him so that he could look at her. “Your Majesty, you’ve had a mental breakdown a week and a half ago. You’ve been dissociating since then. I strongly advise you speak to a psychiatrist about any prior symptoms leading up to it.”

He grit his teeth but didn’t respond. Just focused harder on the room. 

“When you are ready, I will refer you to one. It would be in your best interest to get some help, both for you and for the empire.”

She left before the tears could spill onto the pillow. The mental room vanished and was replaced with the grey walls of his bedroom. Fucking hell he was just so tired. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to feel. All he wanted was to die...to just…

A small part of him knew he needed to get help. Knew that the empire he worked so hard to get would crumble without his leadership. And how could he be leader like this?

\----

“What did she say?” Ren asked Hux when the psychiatrist left. It had been two days since Hux had stopped dissociating and in another two he would be cleared for work once more.

Hux shook his head and put the prescribed pills he had been given in the nearby cupboard. He didn’t want to talk about it to anyone - much less Ren, despite being married to him. His secret shame had a name, one he wasn’t fond of at all, and it made him feel horribly weak. “Why do you care?” He grit out.

“In sickness and in healt -”

“Shut up, Ren.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. For the past two weeks I have taken over your duties as well as my own. The least you can do is let me in.”

“Oh so we’re getting touchy-feely now?” Hux snarled, nostrils flaring.

Ren raised an eyebrow. “If this means ‘touchy-feely’ then yes. Yes we fucking are.”

“You were in the other room. Stop acting like you didn’t hear a thing.”

Hux started to walk away, his skin itching with the need to do something, anything - but was stopped when his husband put a hand on his shoulder. _You’re not alone,_ Ren said to him via the Force. _I feel it too._

 _No,_ Hux responded angrily, _you don’t._


End file.
